


Picture This - The Donnie Version

by melanie1982



Category: Donnie Wahlberg - Fandom, NKOTB - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You sneak into Donnie's cabin, hoping to grab a piece of something to remember him by -but when Donnie returns unexpectedly, you find you're not the only one onboard who's been breaking the rules...</p><p>For the Donnie girls :)</p><p>kissing<br/>masturbation<br/>sex</p><p>This story is fiction. I make no money from this story. I don't know the characters in real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture This - The Donnie Version

You're only going to stay for a minute. The party is in full swing, and you find the door to Donnie's cabin unlocked. That's practically an invitation, right? Once inside, you can feel his imprint everywhere, though the cabin is empty. "What can I grab that won't be missed?," you ask yourself - and then you spy the hamper. One of his softer-than-soft t-shirts sounds like the perfect souvenir. As you're rifling through his laundry, you hear someone outside the door. Diving into the closet in the nick of time, you see through the wooden slats of the door as Donnie enters the room. "Please don't want to change!," you pray. Donnie doesn't move toward the closet. After peeling off his shirt, he sits down at the desk opposite from the closet, switching on his laptop, and after a moment, you hear a female voice emanating from the speaker. He clicks the mouse on the time-bar, fast-forwarding through the recording, evidently in search of something specific. As he finally hits play, you freeze, your blood turning to ice in your veins. It's YOUR voice. You listen in horror as you realize the context: this is audio from last night's conversation with your bunk-mate - IN YOUR OWN CABIN. They've been recording fans! Your memory is a little fuzzy - the two of you had split a bottle of wine, and that was AFTER partying - but bits and pieces start to come back to you. The two of you had been raving about how hot Donnie had looked, and as the wine had flowed, the talk had become rather graphic.

Your voice had become breathy as you'd walked the line of decency. Your friend had asked a series of questions, using her words to paint vivid scenarios of Donnie doing increasingly explicit things to you. "This is the best, BEST friend I've ever had," you remember thinking; you both loved the same man, yet there was no rivalry between you. "Would you share him with me?", she'd asked, and you, not missing a beat, had replied truthfully: "Of course." She'd taken another sip, then followed up with:

"If he picked you and not me, would you let me watch?"

You had giggled, blushed, stammered - but she was expecting an answer. "Yeah. Why not?" She had nodded, reassured. 

"You'd let me watch you guys make out?"

Your face burns at the memory. You had imagined it, Donnie rolling around with you on the bed while your friend watched. "I'd like that," she confessed, and the mood in the room had changed. "I'd like to watch him turn you on, to see him give you what you need - what you deserve." You hadn't known what to say to that; you were dizzy and confused. She went on, the recording making all those feelings come back. "I'd like to watch him play with you, making you crazy. I'd enjoy seeing you lose control.." 

The audio betrays you, your soft whimper amplified by the speaker. Donnie is undoing his belt buckle as your friend's voice fills the room. "I'd love to watch you suck his cock, getting him ready.."

This had been too much. You hadn't been able to find the words to tell her to stop, nor were you sure you wanted her to. Donnie's enjoying it, and you can't make it stop now, either, not without exposing yourself - so you sit there, helpless. At this point, the recording broadcasts the rustle of the bedding as your friend repositions herself, covering up with a blanket. The gentle mewl she makes as she begins to touch herself confirms your fears: this really happened. Donnie frees his cock from its fabric prison, and you hear her saying: "It's okay.. it's okay. Let yourself go."

You had. As your friend had continued talking dirty to you, you had closed your eyes, letting your fingers find your sex. The words came further apart, with sighs and moans in between. Anyone walking by last night would've been forgiven for thinking the cabin contained two women making love. You came first, a long, loud wail of release, followed by your friend, and soon both of you had been claimed by sleep. Donnie sighs; he isn't done - not even close - so he plays it back, starting at the beginning of the conversation.

Your hands are busy now, sliding down into your panties to get off to - him? your friend? yourself? all of the above? You no longer care. He's breathing hard, and you can hear skin on skin; he's turned on listening to you, just as you've been turned on listening to him - in songs, in interviews, in the audiobook of 'The Town,' and in every BackRub episode. Maybe, you think, we're as bad as each other; each of you enjoys listening to someone talking dirty and getting off... Your own breathing speeds up to match his, though yours is strained, your teeth worrying your lower lip as you struggle to stay quiet. Every soft moan from him gets you wetter, and you can't find the friction you need in order to finish. Concentrating on the recorded sounds, you fail to register the moment his vocals stop. The chair offers no squeak of warning, and the carpet absorbs the sounds of his approaching footsteps. By the time you know what's happening, the door is open, and Donnie - the man who makes you lose control like no other - is staring down at you in shock. You stare up at him, caught with both hands in the cookie jar, hair tousled, lip swollen from being bitten. His gaze turns to steel, that Detective Reagan scowl; he shakes his head, and then - then a miracle unfolds.

He begins to shake, finally giving up and letting loose a cascade of laughter, low and sexy - music to your ears. "Let me guess: cabin seventeen, right?" You nod, hope blooming in your chest - and other places. "What a coincidence." He reaches over you, his abs stretching with the motion, grabbing the lube from the closet shelf. "I liked your demo tape," he purrs, slathering a generous fistful of lube onto his cock. "Now, let's see how you sound LIVE."

You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave as he returns to the chair, taking up where he left off - only now, you can see EVERYTHING. "C'mere, babygirl." That pet name goes right to your clit, and you propel yourself forward, standing in front of him, trembling. "Will you strip for me? I've been imagining what you look like naked.." You DO have the advantage here, considering he's shirtless and has his cock out on display - and since he asked nicely.. You begin to undress, slowly, as Donnie watches. "I like this song, but we've both heard it already. Let's change the music.." He closes out of the file, pulling up a playlist and turning his attention back to you. By the time he turns around, your top is tomorrow's laundry, landing in the hamper with a sigh of surrender. "So sexy," he breathes in that pillow-talk voice, melting you. You put on a show for him, playing with your nipples through the lace of your bra, feeling so wicked. He watches as you slide each strap of your bra down your shoulders before turning your back to him and undoing the clasp. Donnie hums his approval as you hook your fingers into your waistband, working the fabric down over your hips in time to the music. When he sees your thong, he lets out a low whistle of appreciation. You turn back around, hands cupping your assets, and he groans.

"Please," he entreats, but you shake your head, teasing, shimmying your way onto his lap with your breasts still covered. He places a kiss on the back of each hand, sweetly, but calculatingly. "Please," he whispers again, adding your name as his lips inch their way up to your neck and nibble there. His stubble grazes your skin, sending goose-bumps rippling across your body. You lean into him, keening for more, his hands caressing your back before sliding down to your ass and squeezing.

Donnie's teeth grip your neck, and you gasp, bracing yourself against his solid chest with your palms. He grins, moving to get an eyeful of your bare breasts, and you realize you've been bested. As his lips claim each nipple by turns, you forget to care. "Is this okay?," he asks, the word 'consent' surfacing in his lust-fogged brain.

"Everything is okay," you breathe, giving in to the need to grind against him, his skin rubbing against the wet crotch of your panties and making you both crazy. "I want more," you say, your voice hitching in your throat.

"Are you ready for me? Do you want it, girl?" You can feel him working his fingers between you, edging towards where you most need him to be. You nod, and with a loud r-r-r-rip, the lace of your thong becomes a memory. He eases your hips into position with his capable hands, and you lower yourself onto him, impaling your pussy on his cock.

"Oh," you sigh, the feeling of fullness spreading through your body as he begins to rock you, cradling your ass with his palms.   
He's looking up at you in wonder, as if he still can't quite believe what's happening. "If this is a dream, don't let me wake up until you cum inside me," you murmur, and he kisses you, sucking your tongue in a way that hints at other skills, as-yet untested. You know he must be half-crazy with need after all this teasing, but he still takes his time with you, doing his best to make you feel good. His hands claim the landscape of your body with a finesse you've never known, seeming to be everywhere at once. You angle yourself to maintain your balance, bringing your bodies closer, feeling your shared heat. His hands reach up to play with your hair, tugging gently, and you moan. The world outside has faded into nothingness; all that exists is this act, this moment, the two of you joined in the mutual pursuit of ecstasy.

Donnie begins to murmur encouragements: "Just like that, girl," and, "Don't stop. I want you to cum for me." Those words, in that voice, directed at you and only you, push you closer to the edge. He manages to work his hips beneath your weight, meeting your downward motions with firm thrusts. When his thumb slides between you, caressing your button with insistent and skillful pressure, you explode, your mind shattering into fragments. As you cum, so does he, and the sounds of his release coupled with the hot spurts filling the space between your legs sends you into a second wave of pleasure, until you're both spent, sweating and gasping as you come down from the high. You hear a crack, and before you can decipher what it means, you find yourselves on the floor, still joined, the chair now destroyed by your passion.

"You okay?", he asks, laughing.

"Yeah. You?"

He checks himself. "Yup."

There's a feeling of 'Now what?', but he quickly overcomes it.   
"I was hoping I'd run into you on the boat. I just didn't think it would happen like this."

You blink. "You were?"

He nods, his eyes clear, face softly serious. "Yes. I don't want you to think I make a habit of.. I mean, I know my reputation, but - this isn't typical for me. I don't.. get close to as many fans as people think I do."

You feel a pang of guilt, knowing you've thought that of him yourself in the past. "Oh. Uh, I mean, okay."

He shakes his head. "I'm serious. I know it was naughty of me to eavesdrop on fans, but think of my position: never knowing who to trust, who just wants money or a story to sell.. and who just wants, well, ME."

You know you're in the latter category, but does he know it?

"I don't think you're like that. I think you just wanted time with me. Am I right?"

He is. You'd never sell him out like that. You realize how lucky you are, getting what so many others want. "You're right. This is all I wanted," you say, softly tracing the ink on his arm, wanting to memorize the way he feels, to burn it into your mind forever.

You feel him growing hard again already, and you whimper as an aftershock spasms through your chamber. "That's good to know. Because all I want right now - and for the rest of this cruise - is time with you."

Say what now? He's not laughing, not even smiling, and you let that sink in, deep down, deeper than the cock inside you. Time with you?

"Is that possible?" He's waiting for an answer - as if he had to ask.

"Anything is possible," you reply, beginning to move, giving in to the rhythm as old as time.

Rock the boat, indeed.


End file.
